REMI
the bastion
& my heart ran away with me
Remi lifts his brows with exaggerated innocence, needle pausing just long enough for him to shoot Ronin a look across the table. "You’re meant to love every part of me, you know," he says, the arch of his brow daring the Knight to argue it. Then, with a crooked grin, he ducks his head back down toward his stitching, muttering under his breath with exaggerated sarcasm, "Oh nooo...accosted by my husband at a masquerade...what a terrible thing to have happen.."
Another stitch, then two, and with a soft huff of effort he holds up his cloak to inspect it properly. The fabric is jagged and fraying in places, the hem uneven, the hood slightly off-centre—but it wears its imperfection like a badge. It’s equal parts grim and ridiculous, which, arguably, makes it ideal for the occasion.
Remi turns it in the light, squinting at the lopsided pockets. "Well?" he asks, raising a brow and lifting the cloak like a tailor presenting a masterpiece. "What do you think?"
Another stitch, then two, and with a soft huff of effort he holds up his cloak to inspect it properly. The fabric is jagged and fraying in places, the hem uneven, the hood slightly off-centre—but it wears its imperfection like a badge. It’s equal parts grim and ridiculous, which, arguably, makes it ideal for the occasion.
Remi turns it in the light, squinting at the lopsided pockets. "Well?" he asks, raising a brow and lifting the cloak like a tailor presenting a masterpiece. "What do you think?"
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
